Thank you C. Evans for your interest.
Of course you are absolutely right! It was a daunting prospect for that teenager (Me) but the fighting apprenticeship’s we served in the battles that took place round Caen, had taken away the innocence of a Dorset Country lad (Me again) to be replaced by a young man that had become a Veteran in a very short time. There is nothing quite like the danger of losing ones life as a ‘prompt’ to learn about what to do in battle.

I shall always remember the true story of reinforcement thrown into the fight for the first time. He called out “ There is a German coming down the road, What shall I do”?
While I am on this track, some of you may find it odd that we were much younger in our time, we did not go out with Girls at such a young age as they do today.

I would venture to suggest that if a boy was seen walking down the Village street with a girl before he was nineteen or twenty, and even then, The ‘old Biddy’s’ would be hanging out the windows “Tut Tutting” and it would be the subject of much Village conversation. That is, for me, the saddest part for those ‘nineteen year olds’ that made the ultimate sacrifice. Many of them were too young to have held a girls hand, let alone enjoyed a relationship. That for me is terribly sad. “Old men make war, but young men fight them”

Now, having got completely off the track, let me return to what happened further on our trip behind the enemy lines. While we were attending to this officer and trying to make sense of what we were faced with, we heard other sounds from another part of the farmyard, and after investigating we found several wounded in dug outs around the perimeter of the farm, some of them severely wounded. Realizing we were not equipped to deal with this, We sent back a runner to our base area where our medical officers were. All of this, by the way, at about two in the morning. Pitch black!

You may remember we were faced with a German Paratroop Regiment. At that time we captured a German paratroop doctor who had helped with the wounded on both sides, it was this German doctor that accompanied the runner back to where the wounded were situated. Let me break off for a moment to describe this man. A big man, dressed in paratroop smock with a large white square back and front of his tunic, both emblazoned with a red cross, He had a black spade beard and was a striking looking fellow, this doctor had been with the company for a little while, treating both German and British wounded.

What happened to him? Again, I will never know, or find out, later we noticed that he was no longer with us, probably in the cage, but I do know that he was a dedicated medical man, and one that some British wounded had cause to be grateful for his tending their injuries. If he is alive and should read this? Well done Sir!
Sometimes I think of him and wonder, what happened to him? did he survive the war, and would he recognize himself from this story? I also kid myself that he may just recall that dark night in August.1944..

The next day, the water wagon, while trying to find our harbour area, took the wrong turning and had gone straight into the Enemies territory by mistake, realized his error, he reported that the enemy had pulled out during the night, it now became obvious why we were able to get into his lines without being killed on our night patrol. It is quite possible that the Enemy left the wounded behind for us to find and treat. Within hours the company had loaded up and chased after them, it did not take long to find him again!

The next episode.
The Diary of a wounding.
Boots full of blood.

Don't suppose you ever knew the name of the man you helped, Brian? I can check him in the Normandy casualty rolls I have to see if he survived?

By the way, thanks for more interesting reading!

__________________
Paul Reed
Webmaster - Battlefields of WW2- http://www.ww2battlefields.info
D Day Ancestors: The British Army in Normandy - http://www.ddayancestors.com

HI. Thanks for question.
No I have not the slightest idea of his name, The mere idea of cutting his bit of leg off, in the dark, at about one or two in the morning, and behind then enemy lines. I did take his waterproof orders pack. but I never knew his name.
Me? I hate night time patrols, and behind the lines, a damn sight more frightening.
By the way Otto has asked me to put a photo tfor him for display/ I will get round to it as soon as possible.
Brian

Hi everyone.
I have often wondered how many folk use these pages? has anyone any idea?
sapper

Hi Sapper and thank you for your reply to me, and the interesting reading you gave as well.

Im not sure how many people post here regularly but I imagine about 30 give or take a few. I do know that there are many more who visit here often but for one reason or another--do not make regular postings or dont post at all.

Im greatful for the fact that we have a person such as you are--that is posting here.

PS, I too would like to see your picture here as well.

[ 18 October 2002, 04:00 PM: Message edited by: C.Evans ]

__________________
Lost are only those, who abandon themselves) Hans-Ulrich Rudel.

Thank you Sapper! This is really interesting, reading the allied perspective of the same battles my grandfather to part in while assigned to the 12th SS. Have you fought directly opposite this German division? If so, what memories have you on this? I do not wish to bring back any bad experiences but I only have my grandfather's perspective and would like to get an idea of his unit's fighting qualities from the foe at the time. He was very complimentary of the foes he fought against. His experience was mostly against the Russians but was surprised at how quickly (talking about Americans) the western allies learned how to fight. As for the Brits and commonwealth, he said that they were like dogs on a bone, not ever giving it up.

__________________

American by birth, TEXAN by the grace of GOD!

Cheers! thank you for the information.
You asked about the 12 SS Panzer Hitler youth Division.
The toughest fighters we ever came across, and it was just our luck to come in contact with them damn near all the time. Where ever we went, there was the bloody 12 SS. I respected them for great courage under tremendous fire. But they did shoot our men in cold blood and that is unforgivable.

But they fought like Tigers, what annoyed me most was, that they fought on after they were defeated.
If I was asked who were the toughest in Normandy then I would have to say, without hesitation. The 12 SS Hitler Youth Panzer Division. what a pity they soured their reputation with their killing prisoners. Especially as it created an atmosphere where no prisonesr where taken for a while. In fact I think that their deeds cost the German Infantry many lives. many that would have been saved were it not for that bit of stupidity.
Sapper Brian.

Cheers! thank you for the information.
You asked about the 12 SS Panzer Hitler youth Division.
The toughest fighters we ever came across, and it was just our luck to come in contact with them damn near all the time. Where ever we went, there was the bloody 12 SS. I respected them for great courage under tremendous fire. But they did shoot our men in cold blood and that is unforgivable.

But they fought like Tigers, what annoyed me most was, that they fought on after they were defeated.
If I was asked who were the toughest in Normandy then I would have to say, without hesitation. The 12 SS Hitler Youth Panzer Division. what a pity they soured their reputation with their killing prisoners. Especially as it created an atmosphere where no prisonesr where taken for a while. In fact I think that their deeds cost the German Infantry many lives. many that would have been saved were it not for that bit of stupidity.
Sapper Brian.

Cheers! thank you for the information.
You asked about the 12 SS Panzer Hitler youth Division.
The toughest fighters we ever came across, and it was just our luck to come in contact with them damn near all the time. Where ever we went, there was the bloody 12 SS. I respected them for great courage under tremendous fire. But they did shoot our men in cold blood and that is unforgivable.

But they fought like Tigers, what annoyed me most was, that they fought on after they were defeated.
If I was asked who were the toughest in Normandy then I would have to say, without hesitation. The 12 SS Hitler Youth Panzer Division. what a pity they soured their reputation with their killing prisoners. Especially as it created an atmosphere where no prisonesr where taken for a while. In fact I think that their deeds cost the German Infantry many lives. many that would have been saved were it not for that bit of stupidity.
Sapper Brian.

How this managed to get three copies on to the page I will never know. I only sent one.
sapper

Sir, that used to happen to me all the time--when I first started posting on these forums. Otto probably remembers those days.

Also, im probably the person on these forums that has the most problems in using computers too.

__________________
Lost are only those, who abandon themselves) Hans-Ulrich Rudel.

Sometimes when the computer is accepting information as to the way of updates or even an e-mail that you are not aware of yet, as you send there maybe a duplication or triplication of information......I know it's weird and that is the way of cyberspace..... / it's good to clean out those temporary files daily so the computer is not slow in functioning. Maybe not accessible to you Carl if you're using the library computer. Dude, I need to buy you a notebook/computer, so you can write from your car ....

E

Hi Everyone.

The Diary of a Wounding.
Boots full of blood.
The Sappers, the Field companies, as I stated earlier, tend to be used in small groups, often with infantry units, (Come to that, anyone who needed us) in that way we were sent all over the place to help those who needed our skills on the battle field. It was not uncommon to be sent to different areas where an attack was to take place. Not always with ones own group. Sometimes getting back to our own company lines, only to be dragged out again to go off to another part of Normandy.

Very often under close Enemy fire, sooner or later the odds catch up with you, and your name is added to the casualty lists. The weather this day, was beautiful, bright, sunny and warm, as clear as a bell, a day when it is good to be alive. For those of you who like to have dates? What follows happened on about the 8th of August. Here, I must be honest, I only found this out in recent years. We had arrived near the town of Vire at the base of the peninsula and abutted the American 2nd Division. (Lovely fellows)

An invitation! How would you like to come along with me on this assault? Join us as an “Observer” For in our immediate front is a ridge of high ground that ran east of Vire. We had been ordered to capture this high ground and as usual we have been selected to do it. The surrounding country side was typical “Bocage” little fields, lots of trees and cover, easy to defend.

We arrived at the foot of this very steep hill, it stood out very prominently in the countryside and one could see trees were growing on the crest. Firstly, those mines had to be cleared and a safe passage cleared through, and marked with white mine tape. Three of us were detailed to get up there as the top was infested with S Mines and had already caused casualties. We were also told that the enemy where just over the crest of the hill. These mines had to be cleared as they were holding things up. You as observers are to come with us.

The three of us. Wass Thomas, myself, and a Sapper from London, set off and tried to climb the hill but found the sun dried grass so slippery that we had great difficulty getting to the top, Eventually, we made our way to the crest, and it was all to obvious why the hill was so important. Even under the most trying circumstances the view from the top was spectacular, it was possible to see for many miles around and in all directions. It was little wonder that both sides wanted this hill. Each one of us took on a task each, I was to operate the mine detector, Wass Thomas was to lay out the white tapes showing exactly where we had swept, and made safe, while another sapper, the Londoner was to get down and disarm the mines. Not easy under the prevailing circumstances. Especially as it is necessary to stand up and be exposed to the Enemy's fire!

The Germans had a genius for mines, S Mines, these were the most evil of all those we had to deal with., they consisted of a steel barrel about 5 inches across and inside of that was another steel barrel with a small charge underneath, The inner barrel had a Y shaped detonator, it could be set off by trip wires, by touching it, and sometimes by even more sophisticated means, one things for sure, they are very difficult to deal with.

We normally carried some "panel pins” in our pockets, if one could get the pin into the detonator it could be made safe. Sounds easy, doesn’t it? But under battle conditions it most certainly is not! You are looking certain death in the face as you bend over to make it safe. Ones hands are not as steady as you would wish, as you get down on your hands and knees feeling for, and looking for the mine in the long grass, at the same time you must watch where you put your hands and feet, outside the tape in one unguarded moment! and it is "Goodnight Nurse" while all of this is going on the Enemy may well stick his five eggs in and open fire on you.

Concentration! Utter Concentration! Oblivious of all that is going on around you, Enemy fire, shelling, mortaring or small arms fire, must all be ignored, or all is lost. When detonated, the S mines small charge is set off, propelling it up to head height, whereupon it explodes, inside of the casing are row upon row of steel balls that radiate out in all directions. The effect is absolutely devastating, and causes casualties over a wide area.

As observers, you are about to find out what it is like to blown off your feet, and to be saturated with flying schrapnel, with a murderous rain of steel balls. Where the wounds occur on your body will be a matter of chance, you may be disembowled, or lose limbs, or it may cost you your sight, indeed, if you had not already fathered children, it may be that you will no longer be able to in your future life. The damage you sustain will still be with you, as long as you live.
To be continued.
Sapper Brian.

Hi everyone. to continue.
I started mine sweeping and found one immediately, (the mine detector, as you may know changes it sound as it sweeps over a mine). One has to stand up doing this job, no matter what! Ignore everything that is going on around you! It was now up to the Londoner to make it safe.

To get down out of trouble while he was doing his bit, I knelt down on my right knee, when the other Sapper bent over it to make it safe, it fired, came up and hit him in the chest, and exploded, the next moment I found myself laying on my back staring up at a beautiful blue summer sky wondering, "What the hell happened there" I got up, and my partner had flopped forward on his face with lots of holes in the back of his neck. I remember asking him “are you all right”? A stupid thing to ask anyone who had just set off, and been blown up with an S mine under his body. They took him away on the top of a Jeep.

While kneeling down behind him, one of the steel balls that had passed through his body had embedded itself in my skull, on the right hand side near my eye, had it not been slowed by its passage through my partner, I most certainly would have been killed, To this day, it is still there embedded in my skull! Another ball had penetrated my left leg cutting a furrow in some “very important personal equipment on the way”, it went right through my left thigh, but never had the strength to penetrate my uniform on the other side, I pulled it out an kept it. But, by now I was bleeding profusely. To such an extent that my boots squelched with the blood that had run down my legs.

Wass Thomas had a steel ball in his right elbow, and was sent off for treatment, I was taken to, and treated at a field dressing station, a hole in my head, two holes in my left thigh and a furrow elsewhere in my private equipment! Plus, the effect of being in close proximity to a violent explosion, blood seeping out of my nose, ears and eyes, coughing up blood where the explosion had caused some internal damage.

The medical orderlies put patches and bandages on my wounds and I had to make my own way back to my unit. On the way back, coughing up blood, and the bleeding from my eyes and ears, the gore had badly stained me. My boots soaked in blood where the wounds had bled unchecked earlier, all made much worse where I had been coughing up blood and wiping it on my uniform.

I must have looked a pretty ghastly sight, absolutely dreadful. As I made my way back, an American stopped me "Gee feller! You've had your fair share" we talked for a while then he gave me his "Bowie Knife" as a keepsake. Now! How about that for kindness? I kept that knife as a reminder of a complete strangers concern for others. Later that day, I was back on top of the hill, mine clearing, feeling like death itself and my parents had been notified that I had been wounded. For many years I have been trying to locate this hill, without success, I never knew its name, all I know is that it was somewhere in the vicinity of, and ran East of Vire.

The Bowie Knife? Well I kept it with me all the time, it was my treasured possession, and served to constantly reminded me of another mans kindness. The humane feelings for others that surfaced, even under the trauma and troubled times of war, only to lose it when I was wounded the second time. When my personal belongings caught up with me in Hospital, the Bowie Knife had been stolen.

If the American that gave me that knife is still alive, and reads this. THANK YOU FRIEND! You will never know what a kind thought, and how helpful that was in the midst of a pretty savage war that was in progress at that time.

I still have this lump of metal in my head, plus a few others that I collected later. A few years ago, I talked a miserable looking lady radiologist into taking a X ray of my head, and then found that it is half a steel ball, with the rounded bit facing outwards

Now! what I would like to know is; How do you all look back upon your experiences as observers in this episode?
Sapper Brian.

The next instalment will tell the story of our two cooks who drank the spirits we had captured, while we were away.

Looking forward to the next installment. [img]smile.gif[/img]

__________________
Lost are only those, who abandon themselves) Hans-Ulrich Rudel.

Thanks for that Carl.
I sit at this computer day after day producing these memoirs. Not bad for an old one. I was thinkimg about publishing some of this.
Brian.

Thanks for that Carl.
I sit at this computer day after day producing these memoirs. Not bad for an old one. I was thinkimg about publishing some of this.
Brian.

Thanks for that Carl.
I sit at this computer day after day producing these memoirs. Not bad for an old one. I was thinking about publishing some of this. But then at my age, I tend to be lazy
Brian.

Quite welcome sir, its a great priviledge to have you here.

__________________
Lost are only those, who abandon themselves) Hans-Ulrich Rudel.

By now, perhaps, I have been able to give an insight into the atmosphere of war, for this bit should certainly help in that respect. Try to imagine existing on biscuits and tinned food, while living in holes in the ground.

Food. Glorious Food.
A better description.

Living on "compo" rations is all very well for a little while, but biscuits, soup, and tinned food, are not much to keep a healthy young man of nineteen going. Many of us were often hungry, so the addition of some fresh horsemeat and spring onions cooked in freshly made Norman farmhouse butter was something that tasted out of this world!

Cooked in a billy-can all mixed up together, it did not look all that appetizing, but to us, it was a feast, washed down with strong army tea all out of the same can. Nectar sheer Nectar, never had anything like it since. Bit of a shame, I lost my knife and fork and the second part of my billy-cans in action, the Germans took a distinct dislike to my eating tools and blew them up, all my meals and drinks came out of one tin and with one spoon.

The redoubtable ‘Spud’ (You may have heard me mention him before) was an artist at finding a nice little pig, he chased them into the most inaccessible place before dispatching it with a 303 rifle bullet. He then brought it back to our harbour area where our cooks hated the sight of him! The very last thing they wanted to do was cook fresh food, all they ever wanted to do was to open tins and dish out biscuits. One short and one tall, they seemed to spend their whole time moaning. Shortly afterwards, we had moved to a new location and ‘Spud’ had given them another pig to butcher and cook.

That night we got back to our harbour area and wearily dug our holes and settled down for some rest. Now all was reasonably quiet, nearby, we heard Germans whispering amongst themselves a short distance away. Too damned tired to do anything about it, we left them alone for the night, (Sort them out in the morning), came morning, they had fled leaving behind a sack full of schnapps.

One brave fellow volunteered to try it, and found it much to his liking. First light we were away, returning that night tired and hungry, we found that the two cooks had been drinking our schnapps all day, passed out, and rolled down a steep slope, about thirty feet down from the cook tent, dead drunk, both of them laying in a stream at the bottom. Out of this world. We got our own food that night. We have heard tales of revenge in the battlefield, I have never seen it, but at times like that. Well, it makes you think!

Before I leave this little episode, let me enlighten you about are rations. First! If you think ours was bad? You should have tried the Germans food, That was bloody awful, especially their tinned herrings, More of that later.

Our food was all tins and biscuits. In the renowned Compo pack was everything to sustain 14 men, for 24 hours, Tins of soup, tins of bacon, bully beef. Never any bread. There was sweets and toilet paper, and cigarettes, Mostly the cooks would get a large pot and fill it with water then chuck the tins in and boil them up. Sometimes they would open the tins of soup and crumble biscuits into the soup and serve that. Fine but after a while we became short of energy.

The sweets we saved, for sometimes we came across French children, and shared the sweets out between them. Then there was the famous cry of “Cigarette for papa” only to find the French kids would sit down and smoke the cigarettes.

Let me describe a typical meal. Biscuits an